Never Leave
by BleachMyGuitar
Summary: Just a little Spamano oneshot.


Never Leave:  
A Hetalia Fanfiction  
Pairing: Spain x Romano  
(Antonio x Lovino)

ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀ  
"Is there a reason you want to visit Spain again?" Veneziano asks me curiously as he looks up from his pasta. The air was still as I stared blankly at my glass of water. Why the fuck should it concern him? 'Roma, you're so cute!' Such embarrassing words... Words that still caused my whole body to react heavily. I look away with flushed cheeks as I take a large bite out of a tomato. "Hmm, fratello, are you hot?" He leans over the red and white checkered table cloth. His fair hand reaches for my head but quickly retracts in fear as I shoot up angrily.

I slam my fist against the table and glare at Veneziano. "Why should it fucking matter to you, fratello?" I shoot harshly, my face scorching scarlet. I didn't realize until after that I squished the tomato I was quietly munching on. That only sent more anger and hatred within my vessels. His last tomato he sent me. "I need more tomatoes." I mumble after my outburst, slowly calming down but my mind continued to reel more thoughts. More thoughts about that bastard Spain.

"But I just bought a bunch for us fratello!" Veneziano whines and pulls on my shirt as he wails. His voice is annoying and obnoxious enough to slice through my blissful memories. I furrow my brows and violently pull back.

"I want España's tomatoes, you damn bastard!" I yell angrily and kick my chair back. Veneziano squeals in fear and pulls back, shivering in fear. Damn, that fucking Macho Potato will kill me if I continue to scare my brother like this. I furl my olive fleshed fingers in an angry fist as I stalk off, choosing not to speak anymore to my idiot fratello.

I can feel those damned tears verging against the edge of my eyes. I can't remember the last time I saw that bastard Spain—and it made me wonder how he would react if I returned suddenly.

'How he would react if I turned up at his doorstep?' I wonder, slipping behind the corner of a beige wall. The dark shadows cascaded a deep and icy air as I stand still, pondering deeply. I close my eyes, hoping tears would be retained. 'He'd be grateful. That's all.' I grimace as I hear the potato bastard trying to comfort Veneziano. He didn't need me either, he had that stupid Macho Potato. 'I wonder how he was when I left?'

"Roma...I miss you."

In a helpless tone he would whisper that, right? All curled up, alone and desperate in his bed. Sprawled beneath the thick and heavy alabaster sheets of his bed. His emerald eyes filling and boiling with salty tears. I gulp. He wouldn't be that torn over me... I shake my head, my fists jamming in my pants as I exasperatedly trudge back to my room. Of course not, he was probably fucking glad his annoying and lazy henchman left.

"Chigii, this is stupid." I mutter under my breath, watching memories play before my eyes. That stupid bastard was always spoiling me...and I fucking believed that he actually loved me. I laugh low and cold in utter disbelief. That was just hopeful wishing. I frown, gulping back any emotions and allow my thoughts all crash together as possible scenarios rush throughout my brain.

"Roma! You returned to Boss Man!"

I furrow a brow and kick my door open. The wind roars in my near empty crimson room as piles of clothes shudder—very few shirts and pants tumbling to the floor—creating a mess that Germany, the stupid Macho Potato, will freak about.

I stare at the clothes and focus on it, slightly remembrance of doing laundry with Spain return to my mind as I sling my forearm over my eyes. I wasn't going to get fucking emotional over that bastard. I slam my door, a loud crash resonating through either sides of the walls. My hazel eyes soak back the tears that were threatening to escape as my eyelids become heavy and tired. It was almost time for a siesta.

I growl. Every action and thought I ever do always is linked to Spain—even what I eat. Why is he always haunting each corner of my brain so quietly and discreetly? I didn't fucking miss him that much—if not...at all.

The air weighs my body down as I stare around my room. A lot of my stuff still lives in the dust at that damn bastard's house. He never came over once to deliver my belongings back. 'What kind of fucking "boss" does that?' I grimace and open my door, fresh air drawing inside my stale room. For colorful walls, the whole room was dim and distant with no sight of living beings crawling about. The air is dull, even with the delicacy of fresh air.

"Oh, Roma, it's nice to see you again! Is there something you need?" Spain would smile brightly; I can just imagine it. After he'd say something softly just to embarrass me, such as, "Boss Man missed you lots, Roma."

I grip the knob tightly, feeling it shake beneath my palm. Just thinking of his low voice ringing in my ear sent my heart flying through the roof of my chest. My mind is whirling with yearning thoughts of him touching me. His words gently hovering in my ear as he slowly closes his eyes. His hands caressing my hair and back, and his warm arms tightly embracing me. My cheeks heat with a bright red as I imagine his lips slowly brushing against my cheeks. I stick my head out the door feeling the cold air smother but not cool my cheeks. Damn, I am such an idiot.

"Fratello! Come here, quick!" Veneziano screams, his pounding soles skip across the wooden floor. My body snaps back in the room, my feet stumbling to keep balance as I hurriedly fumble to close the door. Quickly, I slam my espresso wood door shut and press all my weight against it. My back is aching and pounding from the bruise I have indented on it. I used such relentless force when I rammed my back against the wood. My whole body ached in that split second, until I felt searing tears returning to my eyes. He can't see me like this—no one can see me like this. "Fratellooo!" He whines, pounding on the door.

I clench my jaw. "Go away!" I shout through my teeth as I feel the tears drip from my eyes. My heart is tight and weak in my chest. All those thoughts about that bastard, and all sparks of jealousy I receive when he's around someone other than me... I wonder who he's with. I wonder if he remembers me. I want to see him. I want to touch him. I really miss that bastard Spain... I miss him so much, and for that very reason I was near the brink of sobbing helplessly. "Go bother that Macho Potato!" I snarl as bitter as I can.

Veneziano didn't seem to move or falter since I could still feel his childish presence through the dark cedar wood. As well as the pasta smell radiating off of his body. We weren't much different. Since living here my every article of clothing smells like pasta. It wasn't bad though. I grimace and kick the door with the heel of my foot again, as if to say, "Go the fuck away."

Veneziano jumps back, I could hear his steps landing weakly. "This is someone special, fratello! Please open this door!" He sounded desperate, he really did. I have half a mind to yank the door open and slap him screaming vulgarly at his cheerful face, while the other half contemplates about crawling out the window to escape to Spain's house. My brain decided on neither. "Fratelloooooo!" I sigh aggravated and slowly lift a slight pound of my weight off of the door to scowl at fratello angrily.

"Ita, let me talk to Roma."

My whole body froze. The air suddenly turns heavy again and hot against my exposed olive flesh. My tears sear my scarlet cheeks as my heart races and skips. I haven't heard that voice in a long time.

"Roma...hello."

I inhale sharply, my eyes squeezing shut as the salty liquid rushes down my face. Why is he here?

"Roma, are you there?"

The hesitation and stupidity in his voice vibrates through the door and rings in my ears. My body cramps up and slides down. If it stood any longer, my actions would no longer be of my control. It would yank that door open and expose this weak self of mine.

I keep still as I shiver against the door. He's here. What am I suppose to frigging do? I can't do anything. I've been useless to him since I was young. He'd go through beatings and hassles just for my own well-being. How do you repay someone who has been so selfless to and patient with you? It doesn't exist. It's impossible.

"Ro—"

"España." I murmur, my face hidden in the depths of my thighs. It's muffling my tears and voice as I can hear footsteps shake the earth beneath me.

Spain hesitates with his words as he slips his tanned hand on the knob. "Yes?" He asks gently, almost trying to soothe me.

"I missed you." I gulp, my head lifting. The door behind me shifts and forces more pain against my back as I stagger to my knees, tumbling to my side as the wood pushes me aside violently. "S-Spain..." I stammer, my eyes looking up at him suddenly.

"Roma," he whispers, his body leaning forward with an extended palm. He kneels down gently and pulls on my arm. It's a flash before a visible shirt is brought to my vision. His warmth entangles in my every pore and fiber of my shirt and body. "I missed you too." He whispers gently, his arms squeezing me in a warm embrace.

I stare at the blur of my bleak ceiling as the tears run down my cheeks. My hands tightly gripping the back of his shirt as I press my face against his shoulder. "You bastard...you never followed me." I mumble in his shirt, sobbing helplessly and pathetically.

"You'd get mad, Roma. I didn't know." Spain whispers and strokes my hair gently, carefully avoiding my curl. His actions were so soft and gentle. It pisses me off. Is this how he will treat me when I am stuck alone with my annoyances of life for a few centuries? Does he not feel the hunger and ferocity linger in his heart too? It's then when I don't question or care about my actions any longer. "Roma, I—"

I pull away and press a soft kiss on his lips. My eyes opening and looking at him so broken and confused but so full of love and desire. Why do I love this guy so much? "Me too, España, I love you too." I mumble against his lips, my forehead warming up and pressing against his.

Spain smiles and moves a hand to my cheek, tilting my head back as he lands a passionate kiss upon my lips. "Boss loves Lovino very much." He breathes, a light kisses passing on my lips.

"Antonio, don't leave me again." I murmur, my hands wrapping and tangling with every strand of his chocolate hair. My body can't control this desire that I've locked away for so long and my tears have ceased as I pull him closer.

He was never leaving me again.


End file.
